Shades of Grey: Althea's Story
by SpoonyLupin
Summary: When Althea Jameson graduates Hogwarts, she thinks her future is set, but her world is turned upside down when she's bitten by a werewolf and becomes the very thing she was taught to hate. She must learn to survive the harsh reality she finds herself in. Even if it means seeking help from the most savage werewolf that's ever lived. [A prequel/companion piece to Love Sees More 3.]
1. Chapter 1: Misplaced Trust

**Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.**

_Author's note: This is a prequel/companion piece to 'Love Sees More 3: Greyback's Pack', so they could probably be read in any order._

**Shades of Grey: Althea's Story**  
>Chapter 1 - Misplaced Trust<p>

"I hate it there." Eighteen-year-old Althea Jameson plopped down on the sofa in her parents' sitting room, miserably running a hand through her long, golden blond hair.

That disappointed expression fell across her mother's face again. The one she always wore whenever they had this conversation. It was like someone had let all the air out of her, and Althea was never really sure why; her parents both knew exactly how she felt about this.

"Honey," her mother, Brooke said, sitting down next to her. "Tell me what's so bad about it." She even had that tone in her voice, the one that suggested that Althea had absolutely no reason to complain.

"We've talked about this," Althea said in exasperation. "This isn't what I want to do with my life. I don't want to work in a boring office forever."

"Working for the Ministry is a worthwhile profession," her mother reasoned. "It's something you'll be able to rely on for years to come, because we're always going to need a government, and you'll earn a good amount of money. I know you had this fanciful idea that you could be an artist, and I wish you could follow your dreams. I really do, but it just isn't something you'll be able to count on to support yourself. What are you going to do when you have children to feed one day, and you can't sell a painting to save your life?"

"But I could do it, Mum. If I only had a chance to try."

"By all means, try all you like!" her mother exclaimed. "I'm not trying to discourage you at all. Painting is fine for a hobby or even to make a few extra Galleons on the side. I just don't think it's safe to make it your life." She reached out for Althea's hand, grasping it tightly. "I just want you to have a good life. I want you to be successful, and I want you to be financially secure. That's all."

"I don't know why that means I have to work at the Ministry of all places." Althea turned to face her mother, hoping she'd finally be able to get her to see sense. "You're right, I may not make it as an artist at all, and it's good to have a steady job otherwise, at least until I know for sure. I understand that. But…I just don't like it at the Ministry. Everyone there is so serious, and…it's just not a fun place to be."

"It's our place of government," her mother pointed our around a smirk. "It's not supposed to be fun."

"But don't you think I should at least have a job that I enjoy?" Althea asked. "If I can't make it as an artist myself, maybe I can at least find something in the art field. Maybe I can find an already successful artist who needs an assistant or something. Or even just something in an art shop somewhere."

"That sounds like Muggle work," her mother said disdainfully. "And what happens when those businesses lose money? What if you're forced out of work, and you're desperately looking for something else to support yourself? Like I keep telling you, the Ministry is something that's going to be there even a hundred years from now. We need government, and we need good, responsible people to run it. And if you keep at it, if you keep trying to work your way up, imagine where you might be when you're my age. You might even get to be the next female Minister of Magic! Wouldn't that be wonderful? To make all of our laws? To make sure we remain a good society of wizards?"

Althea shook her head. "That's your dream, not mine."

"One that I wasn't able to achieve." Her mother finally released her hand and leaned back against the sofa. "I tried, and I wasn't even able to get my foot in the door of the Ministry. Even getting an entry-level position there can be impossibly difficult, and that's something you already have." She paused, watching her daughter carefully. "Don't forget the amount of strings your father had to pull to get you in there. An eighteen-year-old, fresh out of Hogwarts with no previous job experience - you're lucky they even considered you!"

"I know," Althea sighed, "and I'm grateful to have had the opportunity. I am. I wasn't happy about it then, but I decided to at least give it chance. You and dad said that I just had to try it for a little while, and if I didn't like it, I wouldn't have to stay. That I could try and find something else, something that's more suited to me."

Her mother took a moment to push her short, curly red hair back from her face. She looked like she was trying very hard to keep her composure, because just like her fiery hair might indicate, Brooke definitely had a bit of a temper. Althea knew that her cause was now lost, because once her mother started to get annoyed, there was no reasoning with her whatsoever.

"You've only been there for six months," Brooke said curtly after a few seconds of silence. "I hardly think that's enough time to be able to judge it accurately. Why don't you give it a little more time, maybe six more months? Once you've been there for a year, we can all sit down as a family and discuss it again."

Althea closed her eyes in defeat, simply nodding. She knew that things wouldn't be any different in six months or even six years. They'd already had this conversation more times than she could count since she started her job at the Ministry. Every single time, it ended exactly the same way, with her parents encouraging her to give it more time. Althea knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt that she'd never be able to get through to them. They were so set in their decisions, the ones they had made for her. They'd never even entertain any of the ones Althea made for herself. They wanted her to be a Ministry employee and that was that. Whatever Althea herself wanted didn't matter. Not to them.

Little did Althea know that her time as a Ministry of Magic employee was about to come to a screeching halt. It was something she had been praying for for months, but once it happened, she'd be desperately wishing for her boring old Ministry job back, because her life was about be plunged into a nightmare. One that she wouldn't be able to wake up from no matter how hard she tried.

* * *

><p>Exactly twenty-four hours later, Althea found herself back at the place she dreaded the most - her desk in the Ministry of Magic - with absolutely no end in sight. There were mounds of papers in front of her waiting to be organized and filed, and as far as she knew, Althea would be there doing nothing but that for the foreseeable future.<p>

Althea rested her elbow on her desk and propped her chin up in her hand. She glared at the stacks of parchment, wondering if anyone would notice if she just used her wand to set fire to them all. There were so many damned papers at the Ministry, it seemed like all she did was file them all day long, and she doubted anyone would really miss a stack here or there.

Just then, the door behind her opened, the one that led to her father's office. Althea immediately sat up straight in her chair, rummaging around with the papers in front of her, trying to look like she was busy.

Her father, Nolan came around her desk, holding a large file folder in one hand. He crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a scrutinizing stare, his brown hair causally falling into his hazel eyes. "That stack of papers looks to be about the same size it was when we came in this morning."

"I've been working all day!" Althea exclaimed, annoyed at her father's insinuation. She desperately hated her job, but it was still her job; she wasn't about to shirk a responsibility that she was hired to do, no matter how much she abhorred it. She did eventually grow tired and discouraged at the amount of work by the end of the day, but she still plowed on through most of it. She was a Hufflepuff, after all, and they were unafraid of toil. "I can't help it if more papers come in faster than I can sort through them."

Her father let out a heavy breath. "I'm sorry, Ally. I know things have been unusually hectic around here lately. It's just that damned Fenrir Greyback. He's been attacking more people than we can keep up with. I don't know what You-Know-Who's even thinking, using him as a tool. I don't necessarily think You-Know-Who has the wrong idea about things, you know that, but Merlin only knows what he hopes to accomplish with Greyback."

"Blackmail," Althea stated simply.

"Yes," her father agreed, "but You-Know-Who's a fool if he thinks it won't eventually backfire. Everyone knows Greyback sees it as his mission in life to make enough werewolves to overcome the wizarding population, and then what? You-Know-Who himself despises werewolves, as he should, so he's encouraging Greyback to make more, thinking they'll all dutifully follow him?" Nolan rolled his eyes. "It's utterly ridiculous. Before he knows it, there are going to be far more werewolves in this world than he knows what to do with. He's not going to be able to control them all, and he's going to be sorry. But he isn't thinking that far ahead. All he cares about right now is gaining power, and that's what Greyback is giving him, the hell with the consequences." He shook his head before adding, "This world is going to be overrun with animals someday, and there won't be a damned thing anyone will be able to do to stop it."

Althea didn't reply. She never knew what to say when her father got into these ranting moods about how the world was going to end up in shambles one day if it continued on its current course.

Nolan seemed to realize this, because he said, "But that's neither here nor there. I guess we'll cross that bridge if and when we come to it, won't we?" He held the file folder out to her. "Here. Run this down to the Werewolf Registry office, and then you can go. It's a list of all those believed to have been recently contaminated by Greyback and his minions, and who _should_ be registered by now."

Althea wanted to ask him why any werewolf in their right mind would register with the Ministry. It was simply so the Ministry could keep track of them when they hadn't even done anything wrong. If werewolves were smart, she thought, they'd stay far away from the Ministry and try to keep their condition hidden. Given, it was illegal for them not to register, but it still seemed safer than letting the Ministry keep track of every single thing they ever did.

That was another reason why Althea hated her job so much. She was helping the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures when she didn't even believe in half of what they were doing. Her father was the head of the Werewolf Support Services, and she couldn't help thinking what a joke that name was. The Ministry's idea of supporting werewolves was to inform them of the Code of Conduct, and to report them to the Werewolf Capture Unit if they didn't follow those rules down to the letter.

Althea didn't think werewolves deserved to be punished just because they were attacked by some deranged monster like Greyback. In the end, however, Althea never said a word. Neither of her parents liked werewolves, and they didn't think werewolves deserved any rights at all, regardless of how they ended up in their position. Her parents never even really asked her what she thought about it. Because they believed one thing, because they had raised her a certain way, they only assumed that she felt the same. Moreover, because her father worked for the Werewolf Support Services, they figured that was what Althea would want to do as well.

They didn't even like to hear any other opinions on the matter, and they often got angry at anyone who attempted to change their minds. Althea never stood up to them like she wanted to, because she was terrified of earning their wrath, as ridiculous as that sounded. She just wasn't that brave.

Althea simply reached out for the folder, giving her father a smile and getting up from her desk. At least she could go home for a while and pretend like she didn't hold a job that made her feel sick to her stomach. As she headed for the door, her father called to her one last time.

"Tell your mum I might be a little late tonight," he said. "There are even more reports of werewolf attacks coming in as we speak, and I should compile another list before I leave. The two of you should go on and eat without me. I'll most likely grab something on my way home."

Althea didn't have it in her to voice a response, so she nodded. She pulled the office door shut behind her, unaware that it was a message she would never get to deliver.

* * *

><p>Althea didn't go straight home. She Apparated to a spot that she was beginning to frequent with more and more regularity, a place that she went to when she needed some time to be alone and think. It was a forest not far from where she lived with her parents, one where they had often gone on picnics when Althea was little.<p>

That was why she loved the forest so much. It reminded her of those days. Things had been so much simpler then. Althea had still been in school, and she hadn't yet needed to think about what she wanted to do for a living. Her parents hadn't yet started to push their ideas on her about what she should be doing or what she should believe. It hadn't been a struggle just to talk to them, feeling like she was outnumbered two to one on everything.

The woods were especially spectacular now with it being October. The leaves were beginning to change into brilliant hues of red, yellow, and orange, and many of them already littered the forest floor. The sound of them crunching underneath her shoes as she walked and the smell of the autumn crispness simply invigorated her. Perhaps it was because her birthday was just a few weeks off. She supposed it always made October feel like her month, like she truly belonged in it.

One of the things that amused her the most was that werewolves were rumored to inhabit the area. If her parents didn't like werewolves, they sure picked a stupid spot to settle down and have a family. Althea had been warned time and time again not to wander about in the woods alone, and to never set foot in them after dark. Doing so would simply be asking for trouble. The funny thing was that Althea never felt in danger when she was in the forest. In fact, being in the shelter of the trees somehow made her feel more at home than she ever did with her parents. Perhaps because there wasn't anyone around to judge her, no one to order her around and plan out her life for her. In the forest, she was free.

Althea wasn't stupid enough to remain in the woods after dark, especially not during a full moon, but she didn't see what was so wrong with taking a walk in the light of day. Most werewolves were only a danger once they transformed. Sure, there were homicidal werewolves like Greyback who attacked whenever they could, but she knew for a fact that they weren't all like that. Besides, even if Greyback was lurking around a tree somewhere, what reason would he have to attack Althea? Didn't he mostly attack those that had either offended him or the Dark Lord himself? Neither Althea nor her parents had ever even interacted with any Death Eaters at all; she didn't think he'd have a reason to even take notice of her, let alone bite or attack her.

She wasn't exactly keen on listening to what her parents told her anyway. They never took any notice of what she said or what she wanted, so why should she give them that respect in return? It occurred to Althea that she was being ridiculously immature about this entire thing, but she didn't care. In fact, perhaps it was time that she started thinking for herself a little bit. If she kept letting her parents dictate her life to her, she knew she was going to end up absolutely miserable.

Aside from her lack of courage, the only thing holding her back was her parents' reaction. Despite the way they treated her sometimes, she knew that they did love her and that they were looking out for her. After all, her parents valued money and success very highly, so much so that they equated it with happiness. They were only trying to ensure that Althea herself could have those things as well. They weren't Althea's idea of happiness, but she supposed she couldn't exactly fault her parents for having different ideals than she did. That was precisely what she disliked about her parents so much to begin with - their intolerance for anything different.

As much as her parents drove her absolutely nutters sometimes, they were still her parents, and Althea loved them desperately. She was terrified of doing anything to disappoint them, even if it meant sacrificing her own happiness to make them proud. She knew exactly how dysfunctional that made her family, and she promised herself that if she ever had children, she would never impose those same restrictions on them.

Althea wasn't even sure that that was something she wanted - children. It was just another thing her parents assumed about her, that she would settle down with a family just like every other generation before her. Althea was only eighteen, nineteen in a few more weeks. She had plenty of time to decide on that later, plenty of time decide if following in her parents' footsteps was something she really wanted. As it was, the only thing she really wanted right then was to paint and to see if she could have success with it. If she didn't even try, she knew she'd spent her entire life wondering what if. She just didn't know if it was worth alienating her parents, and she was aware of just how insane that sounded. Shouldn't her own happiness be the most important thing to her?

Sighing heavily, Althea leaned into a tree near a stream that meandered through the woods. It was one of her favorite places to sit and think, the constantly running water always managing to soothe her jangled nerves. Pressing her back up against the trunk of the tree, she sunk to the ground and pulled her knees up to her chest. She folded her arms over them and rested her chin on top of them, staring ahead at the stream as if it might hold some sort of answers for her.

The orange ball of sun was dipping down toward the horizon, shining through the leaves on the trees and making their colors even more vibrant. Althea absolutely loved this time of day, and she thought she might stay just long enough to watch the sunset. As soon as it got dark, as soon as the moon showed signs of rising, she'd Apparate back home. No sense in asking for trouble.

However, the longer she sat there, the more she watched the sun's decent in the sky, the more her eyelids began to droop. She didn't even realize it. She had grown so comfortable in what she had come to think of as her domain, it didn't cross her mind that she could be putting herself in danger. That something could be out there lurking, waiting to change her life forever.

* * *

><p>When Althea opened her eyes again, she was met with complete and utter darkness. At first, she was still too groggy from sleep to even register what had happened or where she was. It took her a moment to realize that she was sitting hunched over against the trunk of her favorite tree. She rubbed at her eyes harshly, wondering what time it was. Her mother had been expecting her home for dinner, so Althea hoped that it wasn't too late. She was never one to simply miss plans like that, so chances were her mother would be worried if she had.<p>

Althea stretched her arms out over her head, attempting to further wake herself up. It wouldn't do to return home half asleep. Just as Althea began to get up from the now damp grass, she heard a loud snapping sound from somewhere behind her in the darkness. She sucked in a breath, turning and peering into the blackness of the trees beyond. Nothing moved, nothing made a sound, and Althea shook her head. It was most probably a rabbit or some other harmless animal, scurrying away into a burrow when they heard her stir. There was no reason to think that whatever it was meant her any harm. No reason at all.

Even so, Althea got to her feet, making a mental note to never remain in the woods after dark again. She was still certain that there wasn't anything that would hurt her, but no forest in the dead of night was a welcoming or friendly place. Certainly not what she had been looking for when she first Apparated there after work.

Althea closed her eyes and focused her thoughts on her new destination - the walkway leading up to her parents' house. Before she could Disapparate, however, she heard something else. Something that chilled her to the bone much more so than a snapping twig had done. It was a growl. A low guttural sound that could only have come from something large.

Althea's eyes snapped open again, fear driving all rational thought from her mind. She squinted her eyes, trying desperately to see into the blackness that surrounded her. She immediately reached inside her robes, going for wand, but she didn't even get that far.

Before she even realized what was happening, something hit her squarely in the chest. She started falling backwards, her arms shooting out in all directions, desperately trying to catch herself on something. All her fingers found were useless twigs and brambles, which scratched and tore at her skin on the way down. When her back slammed into the forest floor, a large gasp of air was forced from her lungs. She desperately tried to suck it back in, but something very large and heavy had settled into place over her chest.

It was still too dark, and she was still too disoriented from her fall to register much of what was happening. All she felt was heaviness and fur on top of her which smelled horribly of dirt and sweat. She heard that deep growl again, and the next thing she knew, something sharp was tearing through her clothes and into her flesh. She cried out in pain as a warm wetness spread out under what remained of her shirt.

Althea started kicking and punching at the creature that was pinning her down, but she was absolutely no match for it. Whatever it was, it was huge, and her efforts to hurt it didn't even seem to affect the animal at all. Next, her hands went to her pocket, searching out the handle of her wand, but it wasn't there. It must have been knocked free from her clothes by the creature's attacks.

Unsure of what else to do, Althea opened her mouth and screamed. She screamed bloody murder, hoping to rouse the attention of anyone who might be in the area. She yelled until she was sure her voice would be permanently hoarse from the effort, and even then, she continued to cry out into the darkness. No one came. There was no one there. No one except for her and the huge hulking thing atop her.

She only stopped screaming when she felt an intense pain in her right hip. It was much stronger than anything else the animal had done thus far, and it sent lightning bolts of pain resounding through her entire leg and abdomen. It felt like nails were being driven right into her very bone, and the pain began to creep up into her chest. Her voice died in her throat, only to be replaced strained gasps for air.

A horrible thought occurred to her. She was going to die. This creature was going to tear her to shreds, and there might not even be anything left by the time someone did find her.

Althea couldn't focus on anything. Everything seemed like a swirl of pain, and growls, and blood, and fear around her. Her eyes began to roll back in her head, and the very last thing she saw was the impossibly full moon hanging high in the sky above her.

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2: Shattered Hope

**Shades of Grey: Althea's Story**  
>Chapter 2 - Shattered Hope<p>

The next time Althea opened her eyes, everything was a swirl of sensations around her. She couldn't quite focus her eyes at first, and her field of vision was nothing but a mess of colors. She thought she could hear people talking, but it all seemed jumbled and nothing made sense to her. She smelled cleaning supplies so strong, they made her head pound. Her skin felt itchy all over like she had been covered in poison ivy, and everything hurt.

It was almost like waking up after a bout with a long fever when things still felt completely disorientating. Althea took some deep breaths and closed her eyes. She rubbed at them, hoping that the world around her would make sense the next time she opened them.

Things were still blurry, so she blinked her eyes, objects slowly forming and taking shape around her. The first thing she realized was that the room she was in was mostly white, and a very scary thought occurred to her. The last thing she could remember was leaving work and Apparating to her favorite forest. She thought she'd fallen asleep there, but everything went strangely blank after that. Had she died? She didn't quite feel normal anymore, and perhaps this was what death was like.

But no. As she looked around, more and more things started to make sense to her. She was in a bed in a very long room, surrounded by even more beds with people sleeping in them. Some were sectioned off with curtains, and they all had bed trays on wheels next to them, some of them with trays of food. She was in the hospital.

She desperately tried to think back to the night before - if it had even been last night - but for the life of her, she couldn't remember what had happened after she'd fallen asleep. Then it occurred to her that she might still be sleeping, curled up on the forest floor, and that this was all a dream. It would certainly make more sense than something happening to her that she couldn't even remember.

"Oh, good. You're awake."

It took Althea a moment to register that whoever had spoken, it had been directed at her. She looked around to see a young black woman with her hair in a bun coming towards her. The woman set down a tray on Althea's bedside table with a noisy clank, and Althea flinched away from it.

"How do you feel?" the woman asked loudly.

Althea looked up at her like that was the stupidest question anyone had ever come up with. Not to mention, Althea was the one who didn't know what was going on, so she thought she should be the one to ask the questions. "In pain," Althea said flatly.

"Do you know where are?"

Althea's eyes darted around the room. "Er…in the hospital."

"Indeed. St. Mungo's to be exact, and I'm Healer Reagan." The woman had picked up a clipboard from towards the end of Althea's bed, and she was currently scribbling something on it. Even the sound of the quill on parchment seemed impossibly loud to Althea. "And do you remember what happened?"

"No." Althea waited, thinking she would get some sort of explanation for what had happened, but no such luck. "What _did_ happen?"

Healer Reagan immediately stopped writing. She pressed her lips together and relaxed her arms, letting the clipboard and quill drop to her side. After what seemed like forever, she finally said, "You were attacked."

Althea blinked. "By who?" She couldn't put her finger on why, but the word 'attack' seemed to ring true to her for some reason. She still couldn't remember what had happened, but being 'attacked' felt right. Of course, that would account for why she was in so much. Clearly someone had hurt her.

"It wasn't a person," Healer Reagan corrected grimly. She paused again, like she really didn't want to be having this conversation. Althea thought she had picked the wrong profession if she didn't want to be telling patients what was wrong with them. "It was a thing."

"What?"

"It was…an animal that attacked you." Healer Reagan sighed heavily, and if Althea wasn't much mistaken, there was a look of pity on her face. "It was a werewolf."

A large lump seemed to have settled in Althea's throat that she couldn't swallow away. There were about a million questions whirling around in her head, but she wasn't able to voice ask any of them. A horrible truth began to dawn on her, and her breathing grew hard and fast. She gave Healer Reagan a pleading look, as if asking her not to tell her what she already knew.

The truth hung there like a horrible black cloud over the entire room. Althea didn't even need the healer to say it. It was why Althea felt so odd and different since she woke up. It was why she felt like she was in a dream world or some other alternate reality. It was why she didn't feel human anymore. It hadn't even occurred to her until just then that that was she was feeling - not human. That she was now a "thing" as the healer had so eloquently put it. Althea didn't know anything at all about werewolves, about what they felt like after they were bitten, but she knew that was what she was now. She knew.

"I'm sorry," Healer Reagan said, recognizing the look of complete and utter shock on Althea's face. "You were bitten-" She broke off like she was about to say more, but had changed her mind.

Althea closed her eyes in defeat, feeling just about every single emotion possible coursing through her. She was angry, partially at herself for being stupid enough to fall asleep in the woods when it was getting dark, but mostly at the damned werewolf that had done this to her. She was scared and confused, and she almost wanted to burst into tears, but she desperately tried to hold them back. Even though she now had some answers, she had no idea what this would mean for her, or how it would change her life. She felt disgust for herself, because that was how her parents had always regarded werewolves. How would they react to her? Would they hate her now?

In the very back of her mind, Althea even felt denial. It still didn't seem completely real to her. How could she be a werewolf? She had trouble wrapping her head around that. That she would transform into a wolf every time the moon was full. That she would never again look upon the full moon with human eyes. To be honest, being bitten by a werewolf was something that happened to other people. Not her. She worked for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures for Merlin's sake. She wasn't supposed to be one of those creatures herself.

Althea clung to the idea that she was still sleeping, that she was dreaming and that she would wake up in the woods exactly where she had fallen asleep, under the shelter of her favorite tree. She tried to ignore the very real fact that she'd never had any dreams where every single one of her senses felt like it was being overloaded. Where everything seemed unbearably loud, where the unnaturally clean smells of the hospital were making her sick to her stomach, where every part of her body hurt, even the parts that were simply lying on what seemed like a soft enough mattress. No, what was happening was very real, and she knew it.

"I'm a werewolf," Althea said, but it wasn't a question. It was a statement to try and make this entire nightmare seem real to her.

"Yes," Healer Reagan said apologetically, needlessly. She finished writing a few more things on her clipboard before returning it to the foot of the bed. Next, she reached for the curtain and pulled it around the bed, sectioning Althea off from the rest of the room. That at least made Althea feel better, because she was beginning to feel like a sideshow freak. No doubt that the other patients near her overheard what had happened, and they were doing everything in their power not to stare at her outright.

Healer Reagan reached for the thin sheet covering Althea, pulling it down a bit. Next, she pulled up Althea's hospital gown, revealing the healed scars that now littered her stomach. There was also a very large bandage across Althea's right hip. She didn't need to ask what it was hiding. Even though every single inch of her hurt, her right hip was possibly the worst, screaming in pain at even the slightest movement. It had to be where she had been bitten.

For the briefest moment, flashes of claws, teeth, screams, and growls flew through her mind. It mingled with an awful smell, one of blood, and sweat, and dirt, and fur that seemed completely out of place in such a spotless hospital. Almost as quickly as it had come, however, it was gone, leaving Althea to think she had only imagined it.

"We were able to heal everything just fine," Healer Reagan explained, beginning to pull up the edges of the bandage from Althea's hip.

Althea sucked in a breath at the sensation. Every little bit of the tape around the bandage that came free sent even more bolts of pain resounding through her midsection.

"Sorry. I'll get you something for the pain in a bit," the healer said, turning her attention back to removing the bandage. "Unfortunately, werewolf wounds are cursed, so your scars will never fade completely."

She finally succeeded in freeing the tape from Althea's hip. At first, Althea let out a relieved breath that the tape was finally removed from her skin, that the pinpricks of pain were fading, but then she saw what it had revealed - a large and ugly crescent-shaped scar that curved around her hipbone. Althea immediately squeezed her eyes shut and looked away, feeling thoroughly repulsed at the sight.

Healer Reagan frowned, but said, "It's really not as bad as it looks." She then retrieved a bottle from the cabinet next to Althea's bed, and used a cotton swab to dab some sort of ointment onto Althea's scars.

It burned horribly, and Althea scowled, but not in response to the pain. Just what in the hell was that supposed to mean? '_It's not as bad as it looks_'? In Althea's opinion, it _was_ as bad as it looked. In fact, it was much _worse_ than it looked. It was those stupid marks forever burned into her body that were condemning her to a life of transformations, pain, and being an outcast. Althea didn't think it could get much worse than that.

She supposed the healers probably said that to all the patients. Telling them it wasn't as bad as it looked seemed like a good way to reassure them that their injuries weren't so bad. Becoming a werewolf was clearly completely different, and Althea suspected they really didn't know the first thing about it.

Not that Althea did either. She worked for the Ministry for the Werewolf Support Services. She certainly wasn't stupid, and she had a good understanding of how werewolves were treated. On the other hand, she had absolutely no idea about what it was like to be one. She had no clue about what it would entail, or what she would have to do in order to prepare for it. She was running head-on into a life that she didn't know the first thing about, and it scared her senseless.

"I think it is," Althea snapped.

Healer Reagan opened her mouth to respond, a slightly surprised expression on her face at Althea's annoyed tone. Then she apparently thought better of what she had been about to say, because she snapped her mouth closed again. She spent a few more minutes cleaning Althea's wounds before covering her with her hospital gown and blanket once more.

"I only meant that your wounds have healed just fine," Healer Reagan said. She returned to the head of Althea's bed to fluff her pillow. "They may not look very nice, but once the pain stops - typically after the first transformation - they won't cause you anymore problems."

"They already are," Althea muttered. She suddenly felt thoroughly frustrated at everyone and everything around her, and she really didn't know why. She even had the urge to get up from her bed and begin to wreck things. The bed tray on wheels for instance. It would go sailing across the room nicely and would shock the hell out of the healer. The thought made Althea smile.

And that was utterly insane. She was normally a very easy-going person, and it usually took a lot to make her lose her temper. She definitely wasn't the type of person to destroy anything just because she got mad, or to take pleasure by doing so. She had no idea what could be causing her to feel that way. Or maybe she did, and she just didn't want to admit it. She tried telling herself that it simply the fear and uncertainty that had her so rattled, but deep down, she knew that wasn't it. After all, she was a werewolf now. Admittedly, she didn't know the first thing about them, but when it came right down to it, she was more or less an animal. It wouldn't be a stretch by any means of the imagination to assume that that would be why she might now have some animal instincts.

She didn't want to think that. She didn't. During her time working at the Ministry, she often felt like the only one in that damned place who didn't think all werewolves were animals. They at least deserved the benefit of the doubt and a little bit more credit than they were given. Sure, there were some werewolves like Greyback who were clearly monsters, but that didn't mean they all were.

Or were they? Because she was now feeling things that weren't her at all. She was feeling things that could very easily be described as animal instincts. Was that really what she was now, an animal? Were werewolves really deserving of the intolerance they received from society? Had Althea been fooling herself the entire time by trying to tell herself that they weren't all bad?

She was so confused, and she had absolutely no idea what to think anymore. Her entire world had been turned on its head, and there was no place she could go for answers. The healers obviously didn't know much more than she did, not about anything other than the physical aspects of what she was now facing anyway. Althea desperately wished for another werewolf to talk to, one that had been through all of this already and could give her some answers. But she realized that there was no one there to help her. St. Mungo's most probably didn't have an advisory board of werewolves to come in and mentor her.

If she could have, Althea would have gone straight to the files in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She would have looked up the addresses for some of the registered werewolves and gone to bang down their front doors in order to get some answers. That didn't sound like the most logical thing to do, but Althea didn't know where else she could go. She was completely and utterly alone, and that too scared her. Perhaps even more than the revelation that she was a werewolf had.

What the hell was she going to do?

Then her mind seemed to latch on to what were perhaps the only people that she might be able to turn to. Given, they hated werewolves, but she was still their daughter. Surely they couldn't hate her now as well, not just for making a stupid mistake. Althea was nothing like werewolves such as Greyback, and perhaps her parents could understand that. Maybe this would open their eyes to some things. Maybe they would help her and take care of her. Maybe.

"My parents," Althea said, sounding a bit desperate. "They're going to be so worried since I didn't come home last night."

"Last night?" the healer repeated, blinking. "You've been here for a week. That's how long it typically takes lycanthropic patients to wake up after first being turned."

"Dear Merlin. They probably think I'm dead!" Althea sat bolt upright, fully intending to go and find a fireplace to Floo them with, but she immediately regretted her actions. The pain in her scars flared to life, and she thought she could feel every single one of them, sense where they were on her body, like someone had set burning hot pokers across her skin. The scar from her bite was the worst by far, throbbing so heavily it made her entire hip feel like someone had set fire to it. The sensations seem to overload her brain, because the room started to grow fuzzy around her, causing her to sway.

Healer Reagan immediately stepped forward, gently placing her hands on Althea's shoulders and guiding her back down to the mattress. "You need to relax. You lost a lot of blood, and you're still going to be in pain for a while. You're not ready to be up and around yet." She tucked in the blanket around Althea as if to emphasize her point and added, "But you don't need to worry about your parents. We were able to identify you from the Ministry of Magic employee identification you had on you at the time. We were able to track down your parents, and they've already been notified."

They already knew. That thought alone sent a renewed sense of fear pounding through her. How were they handling it? What did they think about their daughter now being a werewolf? Had they already decided what they were going to do about it without even knowing how she felt? Was her future with them already decided when she had been asleep, oblivious to the turn of events her life had taken?

"Have they been here?" Althea asked frantically. "How did they react?"

"They have," Healer Reagan replied curtly, "but I'm sure I don't know. They weren't here very long, and they didn't say much while they were, except to ask some questions about what this would mean for you."

Althea wanted to ask that same question - what would this mean for her? But she knew they couldn't give her answers, not the ones she wanted. She had gone to Hogwarts, and they had studied the textbook definitions of a werewolf. It simply meant that she would be transforming into a wolf herself every single time the moon was full. She knew that, and she didn't need a bunch of healers to tell her that. What she wanted to know was what it would mean for her future, for her family, and her ability to earn a living. Those were things Althea knew the healers couldn't answer. No one could. The only way she could get some answers would be to live it.

Also, the fact that her parents hadn't been there for very long made Althea's fear even stronger. Did that mean they were already distancing themselves from her? Althea was well aware of the fact that she was jumping to conclusions, but she didn't know what else to think. If someone was really, truly worried about their hospitalized child, wouldn't they want to spend as much time as possible by their bedside?

"I can contact them again for you right now," Healer Reagan offered, "and let them know that you're awake."

Althea simply nodded, at a loss for words. She was torn. She felt like a little child that wanted nothing more than to run to her parents for comfort, but for obvious reason, she really didn't want to see them at all. Because if she saw them, they would tell her how they felt. They would tell her that she was a monster now, and they wanted nothing more to do with her. Althea's deepest fears would be realized - that not only did she have to deal with this new life that had been thrust upon her, but that she would have to do so alone.

On the other hand, however, Althea wondered if they would even come to see her at all. Maybe they were already too disgusted to even stand the sight of her. They might just send a letter telling her never to contact them again. Or if they were feeling particularly vindictive, they just might send the message through the healer like a ridiculous game of Floo Network.

The healer bent over, returning her supplies to Althea's bedside cabinet before straightening up. "I'll bring you a potion for the pain along with some literature about your condition and the options that are open to you. You just missed lunch, but I can run down to the cafeteria and bring you back a sandwich or something to drink if you want."

Althea shook her head and grimaced, her stomach curling up into tight knots at the thought of food. "I'm not very hungry."

Healer Reagan pursed her lips, giving Althea _that_ look again. The one that gave Althea the sense that she was being pitied. Althea suspected that she'd be seeing it a lot more in the days, weeks, months, and even years to come, and she despised it already. It made her feel like a bug trapped under a glass.

A moment later, the healer bustled out of the room, leaving Althea alone, still behind the privacy of her curtains. Althea was grateful for that, that she hadn't felt the need to expose Althea to the prying eyes of the rest of the ward again.

Althea still felt like she was in shock, like it hadn't really begun to settle in yet. That she was a werewolf. Those words still seemed absolutely foreign to her, like some obscure language that she didn't understand. None of it made any sense. At all. How could she be a werewolf? The very thing she had been talking to her father about not very long ago. The very thing she had been working at the Ministry to try and "control". The very thing that her parents told her were monsters.

It seemed like just yesterday that her biggest concern was her stupid, boring job at the Ministry. She had been desperately hoping for something to change that, to give her a life that she could be happy with, but this most definitely wasn't what she had had in mind. This wasn't what she wanted. In fact, if she could go back in time and correct her fatal mistake of going into the woods that night, she'd go back to her stupid Ministry job and never complain about it again. She'd work there forever, day in and day out, hating absolutely every minute of it if she could only wake up from this nightmare.

She most certainly wouldn't have a job now. Althea was well-versed in the Ministry's anti-werewolf legislation, and they definitely didn't hire werewolves. They were even making it difficult for werewolves to get jobs anywhere, so Althea wasn't sure what she might be able to do to rectify that, if anything. She felt like the only option she had left was her parents. She clung to the hope that they would help her and take care of her through this, but even that was a huge question mark. What if they didn't? Would she possibly end up on the streets with absolutely no way to support herself?

This was probably the most insane situation she could have ever imagined finding herself in. Just last week, she would have done anything to get out of her job at the Ministry. Now she would do anything to have it back. Althea almost laughed right out loud at the irony, but just as she opened her mouth, something seemed to click inside of her. It was a horrible realization that no matter what she did from this point on, her life was well and truly ruined. That as much as she tried to cling to it, there was absolutely no hope left. Not for her. Her future was very bleak at best, and it had been her own stupid fault.

Instead of laughing, a sob escaped from her throat. It had been threatening to come out ever since the healer had first told her the news. Althea wasn't one to cry in front of people or to even cry in a public place at all, so she'd pushed it down as hard as she could. But it had broken free now, causing her chest to heave as the cries began to consume her.

She turned over onto her right side, pulling her knees up towards her chest. She felt like a little child once again, a stupid, silly child wanting to curl up into a ball in the hopes that it might block out the world around her. Her bite screamed in pain at being pressed into the mattress, but she barely even noticed it now, because something else was hurting her much more deeply. Her heart hurt. It hurt at the thought of her parents hating her. It hurt at the thought of becoming an outcast. It hurt at the thought that every single one of her dreams had been reduced to a pile of rubble in a matter of moments.

Althea was terrified, and she didn't know if anyone would be there to help her. She didn't even think she needed her parents to confirm that for her. It was something she just knew, like the way she knew she was a werewolf without needing to be told. She was completely and utterly alone.

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3: Liberation

**Shades of Grey: Althea's Story**  
>Chapter 3 - Liberation<p>

The literature that the healer brought Althea was nothing but a joke. There was a pamphlet about what it meant to be a werewolf that Althea thought they must have copied straight out of a Hogwarts textbook. All it told her was that she was going to be transforming into a wolf with each full moon, which anyone with half a brain already knew. They still weren't answering any of the real questions she had.

There were two pamphlets about Ministry-run accommodations if she had trouble supporting herself. One was for a safe house that would give her a secure place to stay for the transformations only. Judging from the picture on the front, however, it looked like a dump. It was a tall and skinny grey stone building that had seen better days. The stone was cracked and crumbling in many places, most of the windows were broken, and the walls were covered in graffiti. Althea certainly wouldn't be setting foot in that place, because just looking at it made her fear for her safety.

The other brochure was for a werewolf colony that didn't look much better, although it was described as "a nice place to live." The picture on the front showed a very desolate patch of land with small, ramshackle buildings in long rows. It might have been a prison camp of some sort if Althea didn't know any better, but the way it was portrayed, it sounded like a five star resort. It bragged about their "comfortable lodging, excellent food, and assortment of activities."

Althea didn't believe it. The Ministry hated werewolves. They didn't even deem them worthy of holding jobs. Why would they provide anything resembling comfort or fun to werewolves? Especially for free? That was a huge red flag, and besides, she wasn't blind. The stark photographs painted quite a different picture than the one they actually described. If they were going to try to force some rubbish propaganda on her, the least they could do was put a little bit of effort into it. They couldn't even make the pictures of the places themselves presentable, and they wanted her to live there?

There was one final brochure about something called the Wolfsbane Potion. Apparently, if taken in the days leading up to the full moon, it would allow her to remain in control of her actions during the transformation. It sounded like a godsend, one Althea would very much like to have. Especially if it prevented her from doing to someone else what had been done to her. The potion itself was complicated to brew, but there was a list of apothecaries and healers that she could obtain it from. The only downside was that it was expensive. If Althea had her Ministry job, even her low-level one, it wouldn't have been a problem, but that wasn't something she could count on any longer. She knew her parents would be able to help her out with the expense, but once again, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to rely on their support.

It was getting on towards dinnertime now. It had been several hours since the healer had said she'd Floo Althea's parents, but they still hadn't arrived. If they were at all concerned about Althea, wouldn't they have come first thing? If it was her child that had been unconscious in the hospital for a week, Althea thought she'd drop everything to be able to talk to them again.

She was beginning to wish they'd just come and get it over with. If they were going to disown her or something else equally horrible, Althea wanted them to come to her and say so. If they were going to abandon her, the least they could do was own up to it and take some responsibility for it. As it was, it seemed like they were hiding from the whole situation. Pretending like it hadn't even happened.

Althea wished she had the luxury of doing so, but she knew she couldn't hide from it forever. Her complete and total breakdown a little while ago had been a nice release, but it didn't change the fact that this was really happening, and the sooner she dealt with it, the better off she'd be. She had a lot of planning to do. She still didn't know what the hell she was even preparing for, but if her parents weren't going to help her, she'd already decided that she would find someone who would.

Althea had always wanted the chance to prove herself. Given, she'd really wanted the chance to show her parents that she could have a successful career as an artist, but the circumstances had changed. What hadn't changed was the fact that Althea still had something to prove. That she wasn't going to settle for one of these rubbish places the Ministry provided her with. Not if she could help it.

Healer Reagan had also brought her some papers to fill out so that she could be added to the Werewolf Registry. What a load of rubbish. Althea hadn't liked the Registry before she was bitten, and she sure as hell didn't like it now. More than ever, it infuriated her that just because she'd been attacked, that meant that she was supposed to consent to constant monitoring by the Ministry. She hadn't done anything wrong, and she didn't deserve to be treated like she had! She was just a werewolf, not some common criminal!

She hadn't signed them yet, and she didn't know when she would. It was illegal for her not to, subject to a fine, but she didn't exactly care at the moment. She supposed she would fill them out eventually, because she didn't need to make things any harder on herself than they already were, but right now, it was the principle of the thing. She'd only woken up a few hours ago, and she was still getting used to the idea of the new life she was facing. They couldn't even give her a day or two to adjust before shoving these papers in her face, making sure that she was going to make her condition known to the whole world.

"Dinnertime!" one of the healers announced from the doorway to the room.

Althea grimaced. Ever since Healer Reagan had told her she was a werewolf, something resembling a brick had settled into her stomach. She didn't feel hungry, and she didn't think she ever would again. Althea didn't even need them to tell her what was for dinner, because she could already smell it - turkey, mashed potatoes, and gravy. The aroma was obnoxiously thick and heavy in her nostrils, and it didn't smell the least bit appetizing to her. In fact, it made her feel sick. That seemed like a meal typically reserved for a more special occasion, such as Christmas. This most certainly was not a day to celebrate; it was the day she'd learned she was a werewolf. Even if she was hungry, why in the hell would she want to eat turkey of all things?

Healers began buzzing around the room, bringing in trays of food and setting them in front of the patients. The noise level had quite quickly become deafening, full of the sound of silverware on china, of glasses against trays. It was nearly unbearable, and Althea didn't know how she'd ever last to the end of the meal. Or how she'd handle three mealtimes a day. It was already driving her mad.

"Dinner!" Healer Reagan said, appearing around the edge of Althea's curtain. She was carrying a large covered serving dish which she promptly set down on the tray next to Althea's bed.

"I heard," Althea muttered, not even bothering to look at her. "And I'm not hungry."

Healer Reagan uncovered the plate anyway, wheeling the tray so that it was right under Althea's nose. "Just try and take a few bites," she encouraged. "You need to keep up your strength."

The smell was atrocious to Althea's senses. It felt like the brick in her stomach had doubled in size, and she thought that just the smell alone would make her sick. But she didn't care about that right now. "What about my parents?" she asked. "You talked to them, right? Did they say they were coming?"

Healer Reagan's dark brown eyes grew wide. She looked put on the spot. Althea could see her swallowing, and she opened and closed her mouth several times, but finally settled on an unconvincing, "Yeah. I-I think they'll be along." Letting out a nervous breath, she added, "Why don't you try eating something? Maybe they'll be here by the time you're finished." An uncomfortable silence fell, and the healer quickly retreated, leaving Althea alone once more.

"Yeah," Althea grumbled. "Sure they will." She pushed away the tray and turned over onto her side again, trying to block out the sounds that currently consumed the room.

Everyone else was eating away happily, it seemed. Some of them were even carrying on pleasant dinner conversations with the patient in the next bed. Of course they would feel like eating. They were the victims of fixable things - snake bites, dragon bites, chimaera bites. Not the most pleasant things to go through, but at least their wounds would heal completely, and they weren't doomed to become the things that had attacked them.

Why the hell had Althea been bitten by the one animal capable of causing irreversible change?

* * *

><p>After the dinner dishes had been cleaned up, Althea tried to take a nap, but her efforts proved to be utterly useless. Every single little movement, every single little noise disturbed her. Healers were constantly in and out of the room, checking on patients and walking about the halls. Two of the other patients in the room were whispering and snickering quietly about which teams were the worst at Quidditch this year. They were trying to be discreet, but Althea heard every single word. The patient in the next bed must have been doing some writing, because even the incessant sound of a quill scratching on parchment was driving Althea up the wall.<p>

Why was everything so loud? Althea wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, asking them to all be still and quiet for just a moment! If they could give her just five minutes of uninterrupted sleep, she thought she'd feel a lot less like she was losing her mind.

And then she heard them. She thought they were still down the hall quite a distance, but she knew it was them. They had come. The two people that could possibly help her make sense out of this nightmare. She'd been doubting they'd even come at all, and they had proved her wrong. She only hoped that they would surprise her again. That they would continue to be her parents, no matter what she was, no matter what she'd have to deal with for the rest of her life.

Althea turned over onto her left side, waiting and watching the door. Their voices kept coming closer, and her heart started beating even more erratically with every second that passed. She couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but she almost thought she heard concern in their tones. Hopefully, her mind wasn't playing tricks on her, and if it wasn't, that concern was for her well-being and not their own.

If only.

Her mum was the first one to enter the room, and Althea could feel tears prickling at her eyes again. She took some keep breaths, trying to push the sensation away, and gave her mother a pleading stare. Brooke, however, diverted her gaze, first to the floor and then back out into the hall. It couldn't be a good thing if her own mother couldn't even look at her.

A moment later, her father crossed the threshold into the room, and they both hesitated near the door for far too long. After what seemed like forever, they began approaching Althea's bed, both looking like they wanted to be anywhere else. This wasn't going to go well. Althea knew that now.

When they got to her bedside, Althea noticed that they didn't look to be in the best of shape. They looked tired, and their hair and clothes were messy and rumpled, which wasn't like them at all. They were very proper people, and they liked to look their best at all times. Normally, they would never set foot out of the house unless they looked absolutely perfect. Even her mother's face was puffy and her eyes were red and bloodshot, and it didn't look like she had attempted to improve it with make-up. Maybe they were more concerned with Althea's well-being than she was giving them credit for.

Her mother forced a smile - a rather pathetic one that left Althea feeling even worse than she already had. Althea wished she wouldn't have even tried at all if that was all she could muster. Althea's eyes went to her father's, but she didn't receive the reassurance that she had hoped for. He seemed very cold and distant, nothing at all like he usually was towards her. They weren't the most affectionate family in the world, but at least they never made her feel completely unloved. Until now.

Her father nodded his head in greeting. "Ally," he said. His tone suggested he might have been talking to one of his colleagues, and not his own daughter.

Nobody said anything else. They all stared at each other like they were strangers. Althea's breathing grew heavy, and she tried desperately to keep her tears at bay. She wouldn't fall apart in front of them. Especially not if they were going to abandon her. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction.

"Please say something," Althea pleaded.

"What do you want us to say?" her father asked.

Althea closed her eyes, unable to look at them anymore. If they were disgusted with her, that was quite all right, because her feelings towards them weren't far off. They could at least act like she wasn't a complete monster.

"I don't know," Althea retorted, "but you obviously came here for a reason. So just say it, whatever it is."

Quite unexpectedly, her mother burst into tears, which was far more emotion than Althea was expecting from either one of them. Brooke fumbled around in her handbag for a tissue, and she wiped at her eyes before asking, "Why, Althea? Why would you do something so stupid as to wander into the woods at _night_? You _knew_ how dangerous it was, you _knew_ it was inhabited by werewolves! And on a full moon of all nights! Didn't we warn you enough about that?"

"Brooke," her father said, reaching out to pat his wife on the shoulder. "I'm sure Althea's thought enough about that as it is, and she most certainly doesn't need to be reminded."

Althea glared at them both. She was already sick and tired of their condescending attitude and wished they'd just leave if that was all they were interested in doing. "No, I don't," Althea replied coldly. "But just so you know, I _wasn't_ wandering around in the woods at night. I'd gone for a walk after work-" She stopped abruptly. She definitely wasn't going to tell them that she'd done something so stupid as to fall asleep, because she'd never hear the end of it. "I just…lost track of time."

Her mother scoffed. "_You lost track of time_. Wasn't the fact that it was getting dark a clue to you? How on earth could you do something so _careless_?"

Althea took a deep and shaky breath. She was trying very hard to control her temper. The same one that had made her want to knock the bed tray across the room now made her want to get up and throw both of her parents out. She was already infuriated at the sight of them, and she didn't know how much more she could take.

"Look," Althea said curtly, "if you two just came here to insult me, then you can leave. You think I haven't thought about those things already? You think I haven't been sitting there for the last six hours, beating myself up over every little thing I did wrong? I messed up. Yes, I know that, and I certainly don't need you reminding me!"

Her father shook his head. "We didn't come here to insult you." That was Nolan - always the peacemaking one when tempers tended to flare between Althea and her mother.

"Well, you're doing a damn fine job," Althea said.

"What do you want us to say?" her mother repeated, which made Althea wonder if they had rehearsed that line. "'Congratulations on ruining your life'?"

Althea opened her mouth to reply, but she found herself at a loss for words. She realized that it wasn't even worth getting mad at them, because no matter what she said, they would never understand. "That's exactly what I mean," she whispered. "I don't know why I was hoping for anything different from you two, because you've never been accepting of anything I've done in my life." She shook her head, looking back and forth between them sadly. "Just go." She turned over onto her other side, her back to them. Her bite throbbed in pain at being pushed into the mattress again, but she didn't even care. Not anymore.

"Ally," her father said, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder. "Listen-"

Althea shook his hand off and interrupted, "I was listening, but all I keep hearing is the same old rubbish. I don't know why I ever bothered trying to make you two happy, because I realize now that there is no pleasing you two, is there? You'll always be disappointed in me. If it wasn't this, it would be something else." Althea flopped over onto her back, staring up at them. It was her turn to give them a look of pity. "You know what I wanted you to say? I wanted you to say that it doesn't matter what I am or what happened to me, because I'll always be your daughter. I wanted you to say that no matter what, we're all in this together, because we're a family. I wanted you to say…that you still love me." Her eyes filled up with tears once again, and this time, she did nothing to try and stop them. "And you can't, can you? Because you don't. I just look like a monster to you now, don't I? All you can see is the thing I'll become in another three weeks." She laughed, a dry humorless tone, and she suspected it was because she was close to losing it completely. "And you want to know the really sad thing? I'm not surprised. Not in the least. So…congratulations, I guess, because when it comes right down to it, you two didn't disappoint me."

Nolan sighed. "Ally…you're not even giving us a chance."

"A chance to do what?" Althea asked. "Abandon me? That's really what you want to do, isn't it? I don't know why you just won't own up to it. Just get this silly charade over with already, because you're not fooling anyone."

"We don't want to abandon you," Nolan said firmly.

For the briefest moment, Althea's heart skipped a beat. Perhaps she really was jumping to conclusions and being unfair to her parents. Maybe they really would accept what she had become. She looked up at them hopefully.

Brooke glanced furtively at her husband. "We just think," she said, "that it might be better if you were with…those like you."

Or maybe not. Althea let out a harsh laugh. "Right. And by that, you mean monsters."

"Don't put words in our mouths," her mother snapped. "We've been talking to the healers, and…they have places. Colonies. We could find a nice one for you-"

"And what?" Althea cut her off. "You'll come and visit me on Christmas and New Years?" She glowered at her father. "You just said you didn't want to abandon me. Is that your idea of support? Two visits a year?"

"It'll be more than two visits," her father said grimly. "They're just better equipped to take care of your needs now. We don't know the first thing about caring for-" He stopped abruptly. It seemed like they both were having trouble with saying the word werewolf. "Your kind," he finally settled on.

"It's called a werewolf!" Althea yelled. "Merlin, you can't even say the word, so I don't know how you can even stand the sight of me." She snorted derisively. "And you know what? I don't know the first thing about it either! But I'm going to have to learn pretty damn quick, and forgive me for thinking we'd be able to do that together."

"You're going to need constant care," Brooke argued. "Like it or not, we're not going to be here forever. Have you given any thought to that at all? About what you would do if something happened to us?"

Althea stared. She didn't know if she had ever heard such a stupid argument for anything in all her life. "First of all, it's once a month. That's hardly constant care. But that's it? You're not even going to try and help me? Just ship me off to one of those places and be done with me?" She laughed again, and she didn't know why. She didn't know everything suddenly seemed funny to her. Or perhaps she was just bordering on hysterical. "You two are unbelievable."

"We've talked to the healers at great length about this!" Nolan said, raising his voice for the first time since he had arrived. "You act like we're making a snap decision. Well, we're not. Don't forget, you've been unconscious for a week. A lot has been going on in that time."

"Like you and Mum deciding my future without me," Althea mumbled. "Then again, that's what you've always done, so I don't know why I'm surprised about that either."

"You're not being fair!" Brooke cried, sounding very much like a child. "Just because we've always wanted the best for you in life-"

"A _colony_?" Althea asked incredulously. "Is that what you really think is the _best_ for me? _Really_?"

Brooke's eyes had filled up with tears again. "You're not even giving them a chance! We're told they're really nice-"

"_Ministry-run colonies_," Althea bit out like they were the most atrocious things on the planet, and perhaps they were. She pushed herself up from her bed a little bit, trying to ignore the throbbing that erupted in her side. She leaned in closer to her mother and said, "Let me let you in on a little secret. The Ministry hates werewolves. You really think they're going to provide anything even remotely nice to us?" She looked back and forth between her parents, and she felt utterly ashamed to admit that she was even related to them. "If you believe that, then you're morons."

"Don't you dare take that tone with us!" Nolan scolded.

Althea ignored him. "I'd understand if Mum didn't get it, since she's never set foot in that place. But you! You work for the Ministry, Dad! You know exactly the sorts of things that go on there! You know exactly the sorts of rules they make against us! And you're going to stand there and tell me they're going to provide me with a _nice place_? Bollocks."

"You watch your language, young lady!" Nolan yelled again. "I understand that you're upset, but you are treading on very thin ice with us!"

"What the hell does it matter?" Althea said in disgust. "You two are apparently done with me. You don't care if I end up in a Ministry-sanctioned hellhole or not."

"If you would just go and look at one!" Brooke tried. "They were telling us about them. They have nice places for you to sleep, good food, and all sorts of activities for you to participate in!"

Althea turned towards her bedside table, rummaging through the pamphlets the healer had brought her. When she found the ones about the colony and the safe house, she shoved them under her mother's nose. "Just look at the goddamned pictures! Do those look like nice places to you?"

Brooke didn't even seem to take any notice of the brochures. She simply occupied herself with the tissue in her hands, like it was far more interesting that what her daughter was saying. Then she looked at Nolan out of the corner of her eye, as if she was asking him for some help in the matter.

Something inside Althea snapped. It was like her mother just wanted to conveniently sweep Althea and her condition under the rug - out of sight, out of mind. Brooke honestly couldn't even look at the place where she wanted to send her daughter, and that made an anger explode in Althea, one much stronger than she'd felt before.

"LOOK AT THE PICTURES!" Althea roared. She threw the pamphlets at her mother, watching as they hit her in the chest and scattered in the air. They fell to the floor, lost and forgotten. Exactly how Althea felt.

Brooke took a step back, an affronted expression overcoming her face. It looked like she was scared. Of her own daughter. Althea didn't know why, but that made her the tiniest bit happy.

"If you're going to send me away," Althea muttered, her teeth clenched, "you can at least have the decency to look at it and be honest with yourself about what kind of place it is."

Nolan didn't even take any notice of Althea's outburst, because when he spoke again, his voice had taken on its customary calm tone again, like he was still trying to smooth things over. "You're acting like this is something we're doing just to _you_. We need to think about ourselves as well."

Althea goggled at him. "_Yourselves_?" She let out a breathless gasp, shaking her head in disbelief. "Yeah, never mind about me, about what I'm going to have to go through. You two have to worry about your appearance, right? Can't let people think that your daughter is a werewolf of all things. The horrors that would present for you! You'd be shamed for life! Can't let that happen."

"Like it or not," Nolan replied matter-of-factly, "that is something we have to take into account. And not for our social standing, so I wish you'd give us a little bit more credit. I'm the head of the Werewolf Support Services! Do you honestly think the Ministry would allow me to work there any longer if I had you to care for all the time? I'm sure it would be deemed a conflict of interests. How can I be reporting werewolves for being in violation of the Code of Conduct, and then come home to you? They'd most certainly think I was shirking my responsibility because of sympathies for my now werewolf daughter."

"Well," Althea replied dryly, "I'm glad to know your job is more important than I am."

Nolan closed his eyes and sighed. "Ally…it makes no difference which one is 'more important', but I'd be lying if I said my job wasn't important. It is, end of story. I earn a steady galleon with it, and it allows me to support both myself and your mother. It's just the way the world works. We need money to survive. And do you have any idea how long and hard I worked for this job? I started out in an entry-level position just like you did, and I slowly worked my way up. I put in a lot of hard work and a lot of extra hours just for them to even consider me. I'm not going to give it up just because you were foolish enough to get yourself bitten, and I'm sorry if you have a problem with that."

"And Merlin forbid you spend any of the money from your hard-earned job on me and my condition."

"You're not even listening."

"What's there to listen _to_?" Althea asked. "If you're just going to go on and on about how important your job and money are, and about how you don't want me, I've gotten the message. Loud and clear."

"It has nothing to do with whether we want you or not," Nolan corrected. "As much as you don't think we are, we're trying to make decisions that we feel are best for you."

"Now you're the ones who aren't listening," Althea said miserably. She was done. She was done trying to talk some sense into them, because she knew she'd never get them to see it. She took a deep breath and said, "It doesn't matter what you think is best for me. Thank Merlin I am eighteen, because I don't have to let you two make those decisions for me anymore. What matters is what I think is best for myself, and I don't think a colony is it. If you two won't help me, you don't have to, but there is no way in hell I'm going to set foot in a colony! Not now, and not ever!"

Brooke pressed her tissue over her face, trying to quell the sobs that were beginning to consume her again.

"You're not even thinking rationally." Nolan sounded disappointed. And patronizing. Like he might have been talking to one of the werewolves he encountered during the course of his job, and not his own daughter. "Just how in the world do you plan on supporting yourself? The Ministry-" He paused, seeming to debate with himself. Then he reached into his robes, pulling out a letter with a seal on it that Althea recognized as belonging to the Ministry. He held it out to her, but she only rolled her eyes.

"Just tell me what it says." Althea's patience had run out. "Am I sacked?"

Nolan looked away, giving Brooke an almost desperate gaze. Finally, he simply nodded.

"Surprise, surprise."

Nolan seemed to be trying to control his temper. He set the letter down on Althea's bedside table (just another one that Althea had the urge to set fire to) before turning back to her. "Money doesn't grow on trees," he said, his voice very stern. "You need money to support yourself, and right now, you have none. We'd be willing to let you make your own decisions about this if you even had a plan, which you don't. This isn't some fairytale, Althea! This is real! Once you're released from the hospital, just what in the hell are you planning on doing? Setting up a cardboard box on the street and asking for handouts? What are you going to do when the moon is full, and you have nowhere to go? You're going to bring this on someone else just because you're too proud to admit you need help?"

Althea rolled her eyes. "I'm not proud, Dad. Far from it." She pushed her blankets down to her waist and pulled up her hospital gown a bit, revealing the scars that covered her stomach. "Look at me. What have I got to be proud about?" Both of her parents looked away, unable to face what she had become. Althea wasn't surprised. "And I'll be the first admit that I need help. I do. I'm not denying that. But you two obviously aren't going to give me that, so I just have to find someone else who will."

"Like who?" Brooke asked. "You're honestly expecting to find someone who will just take you in?"

"I don't know," Althea said, "nor is it any of your concern."

"Althea," her father said, "you're acting irrationally, and you're putting yourself and others in danger. We still stand by the fact that a colony is what's best for you right now, and if you won't go willingly…well, you don't have to. But you're going to one, one way or the other."

Althea laughed. Long and hard, because she didn't think her father could have made a more empty threat. "Oh, Dad," she said around snickers. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? For me to just go to one of those places and be out of your hair forever. But you know the funny thing about that? You can't force me to one. I am considered an adult in eyes of the wizarding world, meaning I get to decide for myself whether I want to go or not. You can't have me sent to one against my will. Not unless I've hurt or killed someone, which I haven't. You don't work at the Ministry and not learn a thing or two about how they operate. Werewolves don't have a whole hell of a lot of rights, but we have that one." She gave them a smug smile.

Both of parents stared at her, unsure of what to say for the longest time. Then her father spoke up, his voice very grim and solemn, like he was watching someone die before him. "You're making a mistake, Ally. One that we can't watch."

"Can't or won't?" Althea asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"_Can't_!" her mother screamed. "We can't watch you destroy your life."

"I thought you already deemed it destroyed," Althea replied smartly. "But if you don't want to watch it, then don't. I'm not asking you to. I'm not asking for anything at all from you. Not now and not ever again."

"Althea…" Nolan tried one last time, "this is your last chance. If you insist on doing things your way…" He glanced at Brooke, as if asking for permission to continue. "You'll just have to do it without us, because we won't have any part of it."

Althea swallowed hard, but she held her father's gaze. "That's the only way I want it."

Her mother started crying again, but Nolan grabbed her arm rather harshly. "Let's go, Brooke," he muttered, guiding her out of the hospital room.

Althea watched them go, and she knew without a doubt that it was the last time she would ever see them. The funny thing was, it didn't make her sad. For once in her life, she stood up for herself and what she wanted. It felt oddly liberating.

_To be continued…_


End file.
